Shhh! Cuba may have gotten its first president not named Castro in 60 years on April 19, but don’t tell the government, the next revolution is underway.

Perhaps nowhere is this more clear than in the town of Viñales. Nestled underneath the undulating cliffs that form a mountain round in profile sits a valley of fertile, red soil. Farmers in the western province of Pinar del Río swear the tobacco and coffee grown there is the best in all the world. I can’t argue.

But the real action is in town.

Viñales countryside in Cuba. (Penny Arevalo, Pasadena Star-News/SCNG)

The red soil of Viñales, Cuba as seen on horseback. (Penny Arevalo, Pasadena Star-News/SCNG)

Picture the start of a new day not unlike the opening of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast.” Except here, no one is asserting there must be more to this provincial life. Vendors fill carts with goods to move to the flea market, women sweep sidewalks and construction workers literally sing on their way to build residential add-ons.

Cuban TV commercials may tout work as patriotic, but the people of Viñales have something else on their minds. The perfume of hope is heavy in the air, like the tropical flowers that dot the front yards or the blackberry vines that line the perimeters of nearby farms.

To understand this beehive of activity, one must know recent history. In the latter years of his presidency, Barack Obama announced it was time for the decades-old icy relationship between the two countries to melt, re-establishing mutual embassies and opening up travel for Americans. The Cubans I met said their country had long been a destination point for Russians and Europeans, and our three-night stay in a Havana hotel confirmed as much.

About 20 years ago, Cuba allowed its citizens to turn their homes into what we call bed-and-breakfasts, and what they call casas particulares. It may sound free enterprise-ish, but you can be sure the Cuban government gets its share – even if the rooms aren’t booked.

What was new, as our tour guide put it, was “the Americans’ culture of tipping.” She added that until the first Americans’ pilgrimages, she didn’t realize everyone else was so cheap.

Between the 1994 introduction of a separate currency just for tourists and our propensity to toss them around, many Cubans are really excited to welcome us. While the government pays most workers a salary of between $25 and $40 a month, many Cubans now hold at least two jobs, the second often connected to tourism. Our fabulous guide, who stayed with us for days, is also a lawyer. There are stories of pharmacists and doctors ditching their jobs to become taxi drivers, the best paid employees on the island.

Call it tourism as a cottage industry.

We slept in people’s beds, ate in their houses, learned the Cuban salsa in an in-home dance studio. In the middle of Viñales residential neighborhoods are domiciles that double as watch repair shops, barbershops and nail salons, even a 24-hour diner.

The Cubans we met didn’t have the vocabulary to describe what’s going on – our tour guide told us they say “personal property,” not “private property” – but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Except, instead of major businesses stepping in, it’s the people who are investing. The rewards would be considered small by American corporate standards, but they mean all the world to those taking the risk.

What does this mean in light of President Donald Trump’s rollback of some of the Obama policies toward Cuba last year? In November, the government issued a long list of businesses Americans shouldn’t patronize because they directly benefit the Cuban military, and one of the more popular visas, “people-to-people exchange,” was nixed.

In other words, the changes encourage Americans to feed the cottage industry. While people-to-people exchanges are out, you can still visit on a visa to “support the Cuban people.” And it’s clear to American eyes that buying goods and services from the Cuban people is in fact supporting them.

As the organization that put together my itinerary, Cuba Educational Travel, encouraged, after four days of scheduled activities we should spend our free time taking “part in activities that support the Cuban people, such as visiting art galleries, eating at private restaurants, speaking with artisans, or hiring private cars and bicycle taxis.”

That was exactly the trip I had envisioned anyway.

Can you devise a trip to Cuba on your own? Maybe, but U.S. Treasury officials can audit your trip for up to five years. According to Cuba Educational Travel, we needed to “maintain a full-time schedule of activities that will enhance contact with the Cuban people and result in meaningful interaction between you and individuals in Cuba.”

With so many new rules and obstacles, not to mention old ones – you can’t use credit cards or ATMs in Cuba so you must travel flush with all the cash you’ll need – we felt more comfortable engaging an expert, which made us wax nostalgic about America’s now-mostly-dead cottage industry of travel agents.

As we made the 3 1/2 hour drive from Habana to Viñales, I asked our tour guide where she buys her clothes. She said she could buy them from the government, but they’re very expensive. Instead, she seeks out locals who are able to leave the country and return with black market clothes, she believes from Panama. She was almost apologetic. “I have a family I need to care for.” No apology needed on our part. So I waited a beat. “You know what that’s called, right?” She didn’t, but I’m sure you do.

Many early online posts about travel to Cuba highlighted the authors’ call to visit now before there’s a Starbucks on every corner. That’s not where the country is headed. President Miguel Díaz-Canel has promised “continuity.”

Our tour guide said she thought the country could end up more like China some day, though currently, it’s the polar opposite of China. Where China encourages the growth of large corporations over which the government can mete heavy control, Cuba is encouraging home businesses it can tax – tobacco and coffee farmers who have worked the same land for generations told us the government takes 90 percent of their profits.

So what you see in Viñales is the capitalist spirit to capture 10 percent. And compared to recent history, that’s got the Cubans full of hope.

Hats with the image of Che Guevara for sale at a flea market in Guanabo, Cuba. (Penny Arevalo, Pasadena Star-News/SCNG)

A tourist from the United Kingdom samples a cigar in Viñales, Cuba. (Penny Arevalo, Pasadena Star-News/SCNG)

Penny Arévalo has been writing and editing for more years than she hopes her profile photo reveals. She has an extensive background covering education, city hall, business and the law. Her passion is the hyperlocal and finding the genuine (genuinely good and genuinely bad, we tell it like it is). Fun facts: She was editor-in-chief of the UCLA Daily Bruin and one of her early-years investigations was picked up by 60 Minutes. She also made $9,500 on Wheel of Fortune, solving the bonus round puzzle half a second after the buzzer. And yes, she really did say, 'Missed it by that much,' all Maxwell Smart-like.

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